


Demobilization

by alby_mangroves, thefilthiestpiglet



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 4F verse, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Anal Sex, Art, Bucky Barnes the Cap despite himself, First Time Bottoming, Illustrated, Implied Past Rape/Non-Con, M/M, No Serum Steve Rogers, Post-War, Returning Home, Sex Worker Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers the little military sex worker that could, Steve and Bucky finally do it after the war, alby is a blessing and the best pinch-hitter one can ask for, happy canoodling, hints of trash past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-20 18:58:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14267481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alby_mangroves/pseuds/alby_mangroves, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefilthiestpiglet/pseuds/thefilthiestpiglet
Summary: Sure, Bucky and the Howlers brought down Red Skull and the plane months ago, but demobilization of an entire army takes time, so it’s only now that he got to turn in his papers and step back onto good old American soil.  Steve (he can call him Steve now, not Rogers, and not "pro-boy", which Steve had always worn with pride though it left a bitter taste on Bucky's tongue) came out of his final pro-boy checkup with face flushed, and looked around the Brooklyn streets.  "Oh hey, my place is not far from here.  Wanna go?“Bucky nodded, and hurried to follow Steve as those skinny legs sauntered down the street with easy confidence.  He liked it when Steve lead.---Or: fluffy 4F postwar canoodling where Steve tops





	Demobilization

**Author's Note:**

> For people new to 4F: In 4F-verse, Steve and Bucky didn't know each other before the war, and Steve didn't volunteer for Erskine's experiments. Instead, he volunteered for the Prophylactic Corps as a military prostitute and ended up joining the Howling Commandos, who were lead by a Bucky who had to drag himself off of Zola's table. It's an open 'verse with many authors. Here's the 4F collection: <http://archiveofourown.org/collections/4F/>
> 
> For people familiar with 4F: this takes place after "[Shipping Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5254193/chapters/12567983)" of His Pro-boy, and before [SSR](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4330485)
> 
> Thank you to MCU Kinkbang for running a fun bang, to brighteyedjill for beta and support, and a HUGE thank you to Alby for stepping in as a last-minute pinch-hitter and blessing me with her beautiful tender artwork! (To quote the late-90s: *flying glomp*)

Steve paused, one hand on the chipping paint of the doorframe and the other hand on the doorknob, but it was already too late: Bucky had already seen the inside of his room. At the time it’d seemed like a good idea — they’d both gotten out of processing earlier than expected, Bucky’s family wasn’t expecting him until dinner, and Steve’s place was just a short walk from the pier where the army transport had landed.

But now Steve was painfully aware of how small and squalid his room was — it was barely a closet. That, combined with the fact that Mrs. O’Connor worked in the same ward as his ma, was the only reason why she was willing to keep it for Steve for a mere 5 cents a week while he was off in the Prophylactic Corps. 

Steve glanced back at Bucky, who was looking around the dim stair landing with a studied nonchalance which meant that he'd seen Steve’s hesitation, but was willing to let Steve pretend he didn't. Steve could still ask Bucky to wait outside while he went in to drop his army bag and get a new shirt. Maybe spend the next few hours wandering the streets, visiting favorite haunts and seeing where their lives could have intersected before the war. Pop into O’Henry’s and see if anything had changed.

A part of him wanted to. Just this morning he was finishing his last shift before turning in his paperwork, a pro-boy with a role and a purpose in the Army. But now, back in civilian clothes and a short amble down old familiar streets, being a pro-boy meant that you were a fairy so desperate for cock that you spent the last 3 years being fucked 30 times a day. The way Mrs. O’Connor looked sidelong at him, pity mixed with distaste, the way Mark leered at him when they passed his door on the way up… Steve closed his eyes against the familiar prickle of tears, and recited the old mantra that had kept him going after his ma's passing. _Never show weakness. Never give up. Make ma proud._ At least in the Army, he was doing something. Back in Brooklyn, he was just a liability, a charity case. And if Bucky went in the room, he’d *see*.

Steve took a deep breath, and stole a glance back at Bucky, who was looking at him with growing concern. Steve couldn’t help a fond smile. Bucky had seen him buck-naked and mouth full of cock countless times during the war, and yet he'd chosen to follow Steve home. Maybe Steve could afford to show a little weakness. After all, it'd been 10 years and a war since his ma went into the ground. And it was just his room. 

He turned and mustered a smile. "C'mon in, Sarge. It's bigger than the pup tents, at least."

Bucky mumbled a sullen, "War's over, I'm not your CO anymore, Steve," as he stepped into the room. 

"So what? I like calling you Sarge." Steve frowned. Bucky'd been on his case about that ever since they turned in their papers.

"But you're not my pro-boy anymore. I don't want to…” Bucky paused and looked around. “You had to, when you were a pro-boy... I want this to just be..." Bucky was having a hard time finishing his thought, and as Steve tracked Bucky’s gaze around the room, he saw why: 

There were sketchbooks stacked haphazardly on the bed, news articles tacked to the wall, and clothing piled on the one chair. Mrs. O’Connor never bothered with wallpapering, which meant all the stains and cracks showed. On the small desk stained with paint, there was one faded photo of his ma by the tin can with the pencils and brushes. It might have been the last three years spent in Army barracks and in the open field, but the room had somehow gotten smaller and shabbier in his absence. Bucky towered over everything, and if he reached out, he could probably touch both walls without moving.

They never ran in the same circles, despite living a dozen blocks from each other. Sometimes they joked about it, around the campfire in the war -- _What if we went to the same school_ , or _What if I ran into you picking a fight in an alleyway?_ But now, with Bucky standing there in his crisp uniform, it was painfully obvious why they never ran into each other: Bucky's family was the sort that put clothes in the donation bins for people like Steve.

As Bucky continued looking around the room, Steve felt an old fire burning in the pit of his stomach. He didn't want to be another goddamn charity case. "Look,” he bit out, “I know it's not much but it's mine. If you want to gawk you should leave. Tell the SSR that I don't need that position."

"What?" Bucky said, still distracted. "What do you mean, you don't want the job? You'd be so good at the SSR. Sure, it took some convincing by the Colonel but I know you'll..." 

"Stop. Just... stop." Steve held himself stiff, because it was the only way to keep standing. _Never show weakness._ Steve tried to keep his voice cool. Forced the words to come out even. "I didn't know you got me the job by pulling favors. I don't want a job like that. I'm fine on my own." They'd think that he sucked Sarge's dick to get the job. Steve could already feel the leers and snickers. Or worse, the looks of pity. Why did he let himself believe that Sarge would be any different from everyone else? He should have known this was too good to be true.

"Steve?" He felt a tentative hand on his shoulder, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up at Sarge, not when he had tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Look, Sarge, maybe you should go home." It was foolish of him, to think that he and Sarge could be together after the war.

Then suddenly he's pulled against Sarge, held tight in a hug. "Steve, listen to me." Bucky’s voice was hot and fervent in his ear. "I'm not going anywhere."

Up close, with his cheek pressed against Bucky's chest, Bucky's uniform still smelled like the alpine forests where they'd trekked, hot on the trails of Zola and Schmidt. Up close, Steve could listen to Sarge's reassurances and pretend he was still a member of the Howlers. Steve closed his eyes and breathed in. It didn’t hurt to pretend for a moment longer.

"I'm sorry for gawking, Steve." Bucky's sigh turned into an apologetic chuckle as he ran his hands soothingly up and down Steve’s back. "You want to know what I was thinking? I was thinking about how brave you were. To volunteer for an army that didn't want you. To risk your ass saving us countless times, even when it would mean a dishonorable discharge or death."

Steve straightened and jutted out his chin. "I wasn't afraid to die. That's a risk every soldier takes." He hoped Bucky didn't notice the omission, and tried not to think about what would have happened if he’d caught VD during the war.

Bucky smiled fondly and chucked Steve's chin. "Of course. But it didn't hit home until I saw you here, in your room ... this is what you left behind, and this is what you were coming back to." He gestured at the room. "Look at all this passion. All this... Steve-ness."

Steve looked around again, at the news articles about corporate greed, his poster designs for marches and rallies, his pencils worn down to stubs. The small collection of books that he’d saved up to buy because he re-read them too much to make library trips worth it. Huh. And then he looked at Bucky, sitting on his bed in that pressed uniform, head almost grazing the angled rafters, out of place in his room but for the fond smile and the sparkle in his eyes. Steve found his cheeks pulling up to mirror that smile. He shouldn't have worried -- of course Bucky would see his room for what it was.

Steve felt a sudden desire to rumple that jacket. Sure, why not? In a single move, Steve straddled Bucky, grabbed his lapels, and pulled him into a tight, bruising kiss, nibbling on Bucky's lips and feeling Bucky moan against him. When he pulled free, Bucky followed, panting and hot for it.

“Well, I think *you're* the best thing in my room." Steve sat back on Bucky’s thighs and carefully focused on adjusting Bucky’s tie, trying not to read too much into Bucky’s hardening bulge that he felt through his pants. What happened next would depend on what mood Bucky was in. 

Bucky arched an eyebrow. "Oh? What am I, your prize? Your war bounty?" Ah, so that’s how Bucky wanted to play it. Steve felt a thrill run down his spine and a cocky grin stretch across his face.

And so Steve tugged on the tie, leaned in close, and said with as much cheek as he could muster, ”Precisely. And even when they officially name you Captain America, you'll still be mine." 

Two months ago Steve wouldn't have imagined being so impertinent to his CO, but he'd had half the boat ride back to learn more about what Bucky liked.

Bucky smiled at him and leaned up for another kiss. "Well, then, what are you going to do with this war bounty of yours?"

"Stake my claim, of course." Steve sucked on Bucky's neck hard enough to leave a mark, then watched it disappear in seconds. "Hmm... I may need to work a little harder at this." Bucky gave a low chuckle in answer to Steve’s mock-disappointment.

Steve gently pushed Bucky to lie down on his bed, then went back to the same spot and bit down, hard. Bucky whined, which of course went straight to Steve's dick. He quickly clapped a hand over Bucky's mouth, and whispered, "Shhh, Mrs. O’Connor’s downstairs." With that, Bucky's eyes widened, either from fear or lust or both, and damn that's so beautiful Steve could stare all day. Instead, he kept a hand on Bucky's mouth and started making a series of small meandering bite marks down Bucky's neck, his other hand making quick work of Bucky's tie and shirt buttons.

Above him, Bucky breathed heavy against Steve's hand, and Steve gently ground against Bucky's hardening cock. The fabric of their pants served as a nice friction against their hard cocks, and Steve was once again glad that he was able to leave the accursed cage contraption at the processing station. Shooting Bucky another grin, Steve slowly bent down and used his tongue and teeth to tease Bucky's nipples.

Bucky hissed with pleasure and his hands reached to cup Steve's head in an encouraging manner. Steve gently plucked up Bucky's hands and placed them behind Bucky's neck. "Keep them there. I want to enjoy you properly."

As Bucky hastened to obey, a part of Steve wished he could use something to tie Bucky's hands back, or even just to hold him by his wrists. But last time Steve tried it, Bucky's eyes glazed over and his whole body went stiff. Bucky wouldn't talk about it afterwards, but Steve had seen what HYDRA did to prisoners.

Steve felt a surge of fierce pride that Bucky trusted him with this. That even after whatever HYDRA did to Bucky, he was still letting Steve do this to him.

Steve's row of bite marks were fast fading, leaving only the small scars that HYDRA left on Bucky, that Steve didn't know to look for until ... Steve shook off the unhelpful memory. He needed another way to stake his claim, something that didn’t disappear into Bucky’s skin. Then he remembered that he was back in his room. Smirking, Steve distracted Bucky with another kiss while he reached back and found the oil pastels from the second drawer of his small desk.

He pulled out a blue, the same blue as Sarge’s blue jacket, and, planting himself firmly against Bucky’s hard cock, Steve reached down and wrote "Property of Steve Rogers" on Bucky's chest in big letters. Then he sealed it with a kiss on each of Bucky’s nipples. “There, *now* everyone will know you’re mine.”

Bucky responded by grinding rhythmically against Steve and making playful nibbles against Steve's hand that was covering his mouth. Steve chuckled and removed his hand. "All right, all right." He hopped off the bed long enough to shuck off his pants and Bucky's. 

Steve’s jacket pocket still held the small jar of Army-issued slick, and it felt familiar and comforting in his hand. He eyed Bucky’s cock with a playful glance. “Well, Sarge, looks like you have something there that needs taking care of.” Steve moved to kneel down in the familiar position where he could suck Bucky’s cock while he fingered himself open, but he found a hand on his shoulder.

“Steve, don’t.” Bucky was sitting upright, and his face had lost that look of wanton lust. Steve felt all the playful energy abandon him as he took in Bucky’s solemn gaze. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Steve ran through what he just did. Sure, they’d only played this way a few times, but he thought he was on safe ground. “Is it the writing? I thought that’d get you going, but…”

Bucky frowned and shook his head. “Steve, it’s not that. I liked it, and I told you I liked it.” Bucky looked away, nibbling his lower lip as he tried to figure out the right words. “It’s just that … I’m not your CO anymore. You don’t have to do things just because you think I’ll like it.” Bucky’s frown deepened, then he suddenly whipped his head back toward Steve.

“Is that what you’ve been doing? Saying all those things just because I like it? Have I been making you do things you don’t want?” There was a wild edge to his voice, and Bucky’s grip on Steve shoulder started to hurt.

“Bucky… no, I wanted to. I like it, too.” Steve loosened his arm from Bucky’s grip to rub his face with his hands. “Actually, I like it a lot. I was getting worried that maybe I’m liking it too much.” Steve chuckled helplessly. Of course there was a sick part of him that enjoyed lording it over people. He had the decency not to act on it in normal situations, and usually it didn’t matter because no one listened to him anyway, but Bucky… Steve didn’t know why Bucky let him do it. Why the way Bucky smiled made him *want* to do it. “I know I shouldn’t order you or anyone around, and I like the other stuff just fine, so I figured ...” Steve doesn’t know what he figured, actually. The words on Bucky’s chest look farcical now. How could he think to own Bucky, even as a game? Everything that Steve Rogers owned was in this shabby room, and Bucky was the clear anomaly. He belonged out there, not with Steve. It was suddenly too much to look at Bucky.

He felt Bucky study him for a long moment before cupping Steve’s chin with a gentle hand tipping his head up. There’s that fond smile again, and Steve found himself flushing, all his defenses breaking down under the slate blue gaze. “Steve… I’d like you to fuck me.”

They’d never.... With the Howlers, it would have been improper. And when they were in the pup tent, Steve was off-duty and Bucky had *always* respected that.

“I haven’t done it before.” Steve blurted out.

Bucky chuckled. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, right? Come on, it’d be nice to do something different.” He gestured at the words on his chest. “After all, don’t you want to stake your claim?”

And with that, Stevewas suddenly back in the game, raring to go. Bucky gave a pointed glance at Steve’s cock and said, “Well, I’ll take that as a yes.”

Steve flushed and turned away to give his dick a thorough coating of lube, and to psych himself up. He wanted this to feel good for Bucky. He was going to try his damndest to make it not hurt.

Turning back around he found Bucky already kneeling on the ground and bent over the bed, his legs slightly spread and his ass at the perfect height. Bucky gave him a sidelong glance. “Well? Want to give it a shot?”

Steve looked at the beautiful curve of Bucky’s ass presented before him, the taut lines of his back and legs. Something felt wrong here. “Um, Bucky, can we do it with you on your back? I’d like to see your face when we do it.”

“Sure thing, Steve.” Bucky smiled and shifted to lie on the bed. And in that second, Steve realized what was wrong with the other pose — Bucky was tense all over, as if he was ready to punch through a wall. And now, on his back, Bucky was languid, his muscles relaxed and fluid as he pulled his legs to his chest and tucked his hands back behind his head. Steve felt a quick pang in his heart: Bucky was nervous but he still wanted to do this. For Steve.

Steve clambered back onto the bed and positioned himself, then took another moment to marvel at Bucky's perfect body, stretched before him and marked as his. He wanted Bucky so bad, but he needed to make this good. Carefully, Steve slicked up his fingers, and drew a slow circle around Bucky’s rim. There was a sharp intake of breath as Bucky tensed at the touch, and Steve shot Bucky a reassuring smile. “Relax, Bucky. I learned this from the pros. We’ll get you lubed and ready lickety split.” 

Bucky breathed out a low chuckle. “You make it sound like the Army was your first time.” Bucky tried to sound light-hearted and teasing, but Steve could hear the concern in his voice.

“No, it wasn’t. There were a couple times before.” Granted, those were all the times when Steve got caught on the wrong end of a line-up and ended up sore and bruised for a week. Steve sighed internally. Just because he wasn’t a fairy didn’t mean other people didn’t treat him like one. Steve didn’t think he could sell the idea that his first time was a good experience, so he focused instead on gently easing a finger into Bucky’s hole. 

Bucky shifted uncomfortably with the finger, and now it was Steve’s turn to wonder. “This *your* first time, Bucky?”

Bucky shrugged, and Steve took the opportunity to push in up to his first knuckle. “Nah. I went to the bathhouses a few times, before. Mostly blowjobs, though.” The twitch in his jaw told Steve that there was something that Buckywas leaving out. An ex-boyfriend, maybe?

By now, Steve was two knuckles deep. Usually, if Steve were doing it to himself, he’d be done and ready to go, but that was for work, and Steve wanted to take it slow. Steve’s first time with lube was with that doctor at the Prophylactic Recruitment Center, and it’d taken the man only a few well-lubed jabs to get Steve open enough for a speculum examination and a quick test fuck. In and out and declared in good health and fit for duty in five minutes flat, and a long line after him besides. That was the Army at its most efficient, but they’d both turned in their papers this morning. Steve didn’t have a log book and a quota anymore, and they’re no longer in a war zone: he could take his time and make sure Bucky enjoyed it.

Steve slowly drew out half his finger and gently pushed back in with a second finger. They were in no rush -- they were in Steve’s room on his bed, not bent over a chair or a crate in a hastily curtained-off area. Steve’d never quite done it from this angle before, so he was extra careful. As the second finger slowly slipped in, Steve suddenly remembered the cold nights, prepping himself in the forest, his shivering causing even his well-worn hole to tighten painfully against his fingers. What helped then was allowing himself to slow down, and to jerk himself at the same time. The combination of fingers in his hole and around his cock had felt sinfully good.

With that in mind, Steve hiked Bucky's knees over his shoulders, then bent down and took Bucky's familiar cock in his mouth. He'd done this often enough in the last three years that he could almost let his mouth run on autopilot. He knew the right combination of sucking and licking to get Sarge going, which let him focus on Sarge’s hole. Steve listened carefully to Bucky's heavy breathing above him as he pushed a third finger in, and then moved his fingers in and out. When a certain angle elicited a moment of silence, Steve did it again. And again. Soon Bucky was vibrating with silent cries of pleasure. 

Smiling, Steve slipped Bucky's cock out of his mouth with a wet pop, and sat back once more to admire his handiwork. Bucky's eyes were glazed over and there was a sheen of sweat over his entire body. Who knew he could make someone feel like this with just a few fingers? “Ready, Bucky?” At Bucky’s fervent nod, Steve pulled his fingers out. Bucky's hole twitched, hungry for more. 

Keeping his eyes on Bucky’s face, Steve gave his cock a few more pulls of lube for good measure, then carefully lined himself up and pushed in. Bucky's entire body shuddered around him, warm and tight. Fuck. Who knew it’d feel this good? Steve gave himself a moment to lean against Bucky’s legs and catch his breath as he felt the muscles inside Bucky flutter to adjust to Steve. Then, gingerly, Steve pulled out a bit and pushed back in. Fuck, that felt even better. Bucky’s whole body shook in response, and his face was flushed, choked with desire. “More, Steve. Please.” Biting back his own moans, Steve set a nice leisurely pace and went about enjoying the view in front of him.

Steve used to think he knew how Sarge liked it. Back with the Howlers, Sarge would sometimes lie back and let Steve set the pace, and Steve quickly learned the right angle and speed to get Sarge to come with a gasp and a shudder. But it was nothing compared to the way Bucky was now, writhing and tightening against Steve's cock, eyes scrunched in ecstasy and “Property of Steve Rogers” emblazoned across his chest.

Steve felt himself get close, and slowed. He didn’t want to come just yet. He traced a hand along the words on Bucky's chest, and whispered, low enough that Mrs. O’Connor won't hear, "You're beautiful, Sarge, and you're mine." Bucky made a sharp intake of breath at those words, and Steve felt Bucky’s body spasm around his cock. Steve thought incredulously, _He likes it as much as I do._

Keeping the same steady pace, Steve reached up to cup Bucky's face. Bucky's eyes were dark and hazy with want, and for once, Steve didn't see Sarge's steely look there. "Yes, you're mine, Bucky, and I'll have you however I want. All you have to do is let me take care of you." Bucky nodded leaned into Steve’s hand. Steve continued the whispered patter and the slow thrusts until the final threads of tension left Bucky's shoulders.

Steve couldn’t help smiling at the beautiful sight of Bucky unwound before him, and took a moment to indulge in a series of soft kisses along Bucky's pecs and abs. He'd seen this man fly into a blind rage and kill five men bare-handed, and yet, he knew he had nothing to fear here. He had Sarge loose and pliant in his bed, in his room, here to stay.

Beneath him, Bucky keened and wiggled himself impatiently. Right, it was time to finish this.

Steve pulled at Bucky's cock with a familiar grip and started fucking him in earnest, setting up a pace that soon had Bucky panting and clenching beneath him. There was a happy tension in Bucky’s body now as he gazed at Steve with joy. With fondness. With love. Steve felt the tightness building inside himself, and sped up his hand on Bucky’s cock to match his thrusts. He’d jerked off Sarge enough to tell when he was close, so when that glazed, pinched look crossed Bucky’s face, Steve gave a final few practiced pulls and let himself tip over into orgasm at the same time.

——

Eventually, Steve felt Bucky’s hand running up and down his back. “Mmmuh?”

“C’mon, Steve, let’s get a bit more comfortable, don’t want my spunk drying on our bellies.” 

Steve heaved an overwrought sigh, which Bucky replied to with fond chuckles and a persistent tug at his arm. “C’mon, punk.”

Steve replied with a surly, “Who’re you calling punk? I’m far more experienced. Technically, *you’re* the punk,” which earned him a friendly cuff on the shoulder.

It took a little maneuvering, but Steve managed to tuck himself against Bucky, his back flush with Bucky's chest and front curled against the wall. Bucky slung a heavy arm around Steve and pulled him close, a far cry from his prim maiden-aunt rules when they shared a tent during the war.

“Think Mrs. O’Connor heard anything?” Bucky rumbled against his good ear.

Steve shrugged. “I don’t care.” And he realized that it was true — he didn’t need to care about what others thought when he had Bucky curled around him.

Bucky nuzzled into Steve's nape and whisperd a husky "Thanks, Stevie."

Steve made a happy murmur of assent and clutched Bucky's arm closer around him. Later, he would spare the time to feel properly horrified by what HYDRA probably did to Bucky. Later, he would have to deal with the leers of the SSR. Later, he'd look Bucky's parents in the eyes and tell them that he had been a pro-boy during the war. But right now, he had Bucky and he was home.

**Author's Note:**

> alby's art [on Tumblr](http://artgroves.tumblr.com/post/172838397909/keeping-the-same-steady-pace-steve-reached-up-to)


End file.
